


Merry Christmas-ish (Trixya)

by Remeny



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Character Death, Drug Use, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, RuPaul's Drag Race References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remeny/pseuds/Remeny
Summary: So this is for the @ rpdrficexchange on tumblrThanks to Missy, Evee and Care for their betaing.TW Major Character death, hospitals, illicit drugs by name.





	Merry Christmas-ish (Trixya)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is for the @ rpdrficexchange on tumblr
> 
> Thanks to Missy, Evee and Care for their betaing.
> 
> TW Major Character death, hospitals, illicit drugs by name.

Katya’s hand had gone slack in Trixie’s but he was too afraid to pull his hand away with the fear of waking him. He rarely got much rest which was something he desperately needed. Trixie studied the angular lines of his face, his already pronounced cheekbones and jaw were now almost razor sharp in his gauntness. He grimaced in his sleep and tightened his grip on Trixie’s hand, making him glad he had not pulled away.

The dishes and laundry could wait but time to spend with Katya was ticking down at far too alarming a rate: his lips were blue constantly now, even with the steady supply of Oxygen flowing and a hospital bed had been unceremoniously plunked in the middle of the living room when it became too difficult for him to climb the stairs of their LA condo. At least it was a wider one generally meant for bariatric patients so they could both curl up together.

The apartment was a flood of colour, since both Hallowe'en and Christmas decorations vied for your attention. It was October 29th but they had decorated for Christmas early at Kat’s insistence. “Trix, I don’t want to miss what could be my last Christmas.”

“You’re not going to die Bri, they’ll call, and a heart will come.” Trixie reassured, but he was no longer sure if he was saying it for Katya or if he even believed it or it was just by muscle memory at this point.  Katya secretly hated when Trixie said this because he felt like it was setting Trixie up for the inevitable crash but he never said so. One of them had to hold on to hope and Trixie had enough hope for the both of them. 

Dark thoughts milled about in Katya’s manic brain and he no longer had the frenetic energy he used to use to distract himself so he now often found himself brooding. “I broke the traditions. I ruined my family. I destroyed my friends and it’s entirely all my fault that they have to go through this. Trixie is entirely too good for me, he was right to run away from me, he would be better off if I had never called him for help.”

It had all happened right after Drag Race had been taped but not released yet. The cheque had cleared and Brian suddenly had money at his disposal. He had been racked with anxiety at how the editors would portray him. He worried that the fans would hate his constant nervous energy or make fun of his penchant for problematic patterns and quirky clothes.

He and Trixie had gotten close during the show. Well as close as two people could get when you were either being constantly monitored or had a camera in your face anyway. They talked every day after the taping, Trix seemed to sense that Katya was struggling and encouraged him to get out and always reminded him to eat and take his meds but he did it in such a caring way that it was endearing not overbearing.

As the date of the cast announcement loomed, Katya got more anxious and then depressed. When Trixie was away for a week, he slept too much and ate too little and didn’t take his meds. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through all the premiere and cast reveal parties. He felt the familiar itch of burning desire for just a little pick me up. Then he happened upon a man he knew when he was using and he thought he could just do it this once, he was in control now. He had a handle on it - on everything - he just needed a break.

He was wrong, of course. He didn’t just fall off the wagon, got dragged along a gravel road for a few miles. He started with coke, and that first line  was like coming home. He got so much done, he cleaned his apartment and cranked out a few new outfits for premieres, mostly cat suits because they would be easy to pack and were easy to move and dance in.

Katya hated sneaking around when Trixie got back and they started their daily routine of video chatting, his using had quickly escalated back to meth and he hated that itching paranoia that would settle in his chest at the thought that Trixie was going to find out. Or worse, Fame. He started wearing his sunglasses inside when they chatted so Trixie couldn’t see how blown out his eyes were, and he covered by saying he was having a hard time with migraines.

Trixie always asked, "hey, how’s your head?”

“I dunno, ask Fame.” Katya would joke and then scream-laugh. That joke would never get old to him and it obviously didn’t in some little part of Trixie’s heart because he always set the joke up and let out a little giggle while he shook his head.  Trixie would always sober, brows furrowed and pull his bottom lip between his teeth, “no seriously though, did you go to the doctor yet?”

“No, I’m sure it’s just stress and once they release the cast list and start the show and I find out if people love me or hate me, things will go back to normal.”

“Oh please! They are going to love you! I’m the loser with the polarizing makeup people love to hate who went home early, then came back and got booted again. I’m the one who couldn’t out lipsync Pearl and her fucking robot zombie smash dance moves.”

Katya snorted, “True.”

The cast announcement parties came in like a whirlwind, blowing Katya and Trixie apart so they were often not even on the same continent. Katya knew things would change once the episode of her breaking down with Fame or any of the other times he talked about his past with addictions aired. 

Right then, he was always being offered a little something at the back of clubs or in the bathrooms. He felt his chest tighten with panic that people were going to stop offering or worse, that they would tell. He tried to make connections with local dealers at cities that had several drag bars since he knew he could be booked for a few days in one spot.

Smoking became too conspicuous, he couldn’t sneak out to the back alleyways at busy bars like he used to behind Jacques when he was relatively unknown, even locally. He would smoke a rock before leaving the hotel but after he did his makeup as his hands shook with adrenaline for the first 30 minutes or so which he always wrote off to others as nerves. But he didn’t get nervous, that was the thing, performing was like a drug in and of itself but now that he had a steady supply coursing through his veins, the shine was wearing off of it.

Katya would stay at the venue as long as possible but coming down from meth was like running out of batteries, he would sometimes come to a dead stand still in the hotel lobby for a good five minutes trying to remember his room number or sometimes to even decipher it from the key card envelope. Sometimes he was paused long enough that a worried hotel employee would come over to make sure he was ok.

But the pain was the worst part, always. He managed to make the joke he was the sweatiest woman in show business so no one questioned him when he would start sweating so hard that it was like having a constantly sprinkling rain cloud over his head, but when it started to feel like his joints were being filled up with gravel and it hurt to even breathe, he had to bail.

That and the fact that meth smoke, well the good stuff, smelled like a mixture of cat piss and hospitals made it hard to hide, people always complimented him on his perfume since he was paranoid someone was going to pick up the scent. So he did something he always vowed not to do, even in his most blottoed days when he was chasing a high that seemed to take more and more drugs to achieve, he started injecting. He’d secret away in the bathroom or lock the dressing room door if he was alone, it wasn’t as complicated as a lot of injectables, you didn’t have to heat it up since that could destroy it. He just carried a bottle of water with him which no one would question and hid his needles in a old eyeshadow pallet case, one of the magnetic ones so it had enough room for his needles and a tourniquet, which he stuffed down deep in his makeup bag.

He generally wore long sleeved catsuits so he didn’t have to worry if he DID end up bruising himself in his haste or because of the tremors. The first few times the high was so much more intense and he fumbled the needle and always had to try a few times to get a vein, now it had been a few months and he easily knew where to slide the needle in. Pulling back the syringe to find blood and know he was in a vein and his pain would soon be alleviated was a rush itself.

A few nights before the finale, he and Trixie were reunited and they admitted their feelings for each other. Katya’s heart was hammering in his chest with the paranoia that Trix was going to find out what he’d been doing. He was so consumed with anxiety that when Trixie tried to give him a blowjob, he couldn’t get it up. He apologized a thousand times but it made a mortified Trixie self conscious that since he admitted his affection first, that Katya was just too nice to turn him down. But that thought was wiped out of his brain along with any other thought when Katya put his magical mouth and hands to work to show just how sorry he was.

Later, Katya woke up covered in sweat and shaking, worried that his every move was going to wake up Trixie who was snuggled up against him. His breath was coming in tight little gasps, so he tried to hold it while he slipped off the bed, crawling across the floor and to the bathroom, dragging his drag bag with him, which felt like it was 5 times as heavy as it was a few hours ago as his muscles screamed at him. He managed to get in a bump and headed back to bed, now wide awake and heart thundering in his ears at the audacity he had to feel miserable while he had literally everything he could ever want.

He had an amazing fanbase he didn’t deserve, the worst was the people that would come up and tell him their sobriety story or that Katya had inspired them to get help. He couldn’t even look those people in the eye, he was so filled with shame but not enough to stop.

He had the ability to travel and make more money in one booking than he did in a month pre-dragrace. Now he “got the boy” but would he stay if he knew what a deplorable human being he really was? Probably not.

Then after the finale, Katya was tired and desperate and felt like he was going to fucking die, he got careless and forgot to lock the door to the bathroom. Him and Trix were just sharing a room and he still didn’t know to this day why but Trixie decided to walk in without knocking. Maybe it was because he’d seen him naked so it wasn’t a big deal, but Katya was currently sitting on the toilet with his head down, drug paraphernalia peppered along the room in his haste, a syringe still clutched in his balled up fist.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot to get my…” Trixie trailed off, turning completely white, still holding on to the doorknob with white knuckles. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth flopped open, the pleasant warm buzz from a few post-show drinks that he had been feeling vanished as his blood ran cold.

“Brian, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop. Please, I need help.” Katya broke then, breaking down into sobs where no sound would come out. Trixie’s arms itched to reach out and hold him but his heart was breaking and his brain was telling him to run far, far away. So he did.

“Damn you Bri!” He said in a whisper as his own tears fell. The broken whisper was like a slap in the face to Katya, who would have much prefered him to yell and scream and rail at him as opposed to the quiet disappointment and heartache that was thrown at him.

“Brian, pl..please st…stay!” Katya sobbed as Trixie took a step back and then another. He felt like someone was disemboweling him with a rusty spoon until he was hollow and dead inside. Trixie hesitated in the doorway before grabbing his wallet and walking out. Katya slid to the floor as he screamed after him until his voice was hoarse and security came to check if everything was ok after receiving several complaints from fellow patrons. When there was a knock on the door, Katya stumbled over himself in his haste to answer it, hoping beyond hope that it was Trixie. He felt even more hollow when he saw it wasn’t.

Trixie came back to the room early the next morning after a sleepless night to find Katya and all his stuff gone. A shakily written apology was penned across the hotel stationary. Trixie wondered where he was and how long this had been going on.

Then Katya went missing, he just dropped off the face of the planet. Trixie had to field angry phone calls from Katya’s manager for missed gigs. They all assumed that Katya was with him playing hookie while he was on vacation or that he knew where he was. 

Trixie didn’t sleep more than 30 minutes at a time or eat anything for five hellish days of waiting with his phone clutched in his hand.

Trixie started scouring the local hospitals and rehabs after the first 12 hours of calling him constantly and getting no response and with a sinking stomach about the third day in, he started looking at the obituaries for Boston and area online. Trixie hoped that Katya had checked himself in somewhere and just wasn’t allowed his phone but you would think he would have gotten SOMEONE to call him to let him know that Katya was okay.

The call came in at 4:07 on the start of the 6th day, Trixie had just nodded off for a moment when the blaring of his phone ringing at full volume startled him awake.

At the beginning, there was only laboured breathing on the other end of the line from a number he didn’t recognise.  "Who is this? I need to keep this line open so if you are just some pervert, hang the fuck up!“

He almost hung up when Katya breathed in a voice that sounded gravelly from misuse, "Trix?”

“Bri? Ohmigod! Where are you? Are you okay.”

“Need help,” he sputtered weakly.

“What do you need?” Trixie was already standing with his keys, stalking towards the door, heart beating so frantically it was like a small caged animal trying to fight it’s way out of his chest. “Do you need me to pick you up?” 

Katya made an unhh sound that Trixie took as a confirmation, “Where are you?”

There was a rustling of material and a few loud bangs and an abrasive and out of it sounding girl came on the phone, “What d'ya want?”

“Uh can I get the address so I can pick up Brian?”

“Who’s Brian?”

Trixie heard Katya sleepily say “me.”

“Oh yeah, you should pick him up, he’s not looking so great.” She said bluntly, Trixie wondered how high a person would have to be to have no filter like that.

“Okay then I need the damn address!” Trixie barked, trying to get the girl to focus as he yanked open his car door.

“You’re not a narc, are you?”

“No! I’m not!!”

“Really? That’s exactly what a narc would say. Brian,” there was a rustle of fabric and Katya moaned, “BRIAN!” She screamed at him. “Is your friend a narc? BRIAN! BRIAN! Well, I’m gonna have to trust you aren’t a narc, he fell asleep and I tried shaking him but it didn’t help.” 

She let out a little giggle that set Trixie’s hair on end and he was just about to lose it on her when she rattled off the address to a part of town he didn’t know. He looked around frantically but only found a lipstick so he wrote the street number and name across his arm.

“Thanks, I’ll be there as fast as I can, try to wake him up. I drive a silver jeep and my name is Brian too.”

She laughed, “well that’s funny! I can’t wake him up, I tried shaking him but he’s dead to the world. Did I tell you that? Ask for Ace. Lock your door.” There was a click.

Trixie’s hands shook as he put the address into his phone’s GPS, and even though he didn’t know the area he was going to but it said it was 30 minutes away. Trixie sped as quickly as he dared, it was a warm day but he couldn’t get warm so he turned on the heat. The words “dead to the world” and “he doesn’t look so great” chased each other around his head like overactive dogs. He slammed his hands into the wheel and cursed when traffic came to a dead stop. By this point, he was sobbing with worry and frustration and getting weird looks, which he didn’t give a single fuck about. He put his head in his hands for a moment before a lady took pity on him and let him cross over to the offramp. He didn’t stop, he just drove in what he thought was the general direction while his phone seemed to take forever to reroute.

Trixie tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to walk in on. He knew he was getting close, the buildings becoming more shabby then downright abandoned, windows boarded up or broken. Half clothed, dirty, shoeless kids wandering around.

He pulled up to the house, making sure to lock his doors. He basically ran up the hill to the door, adrenaline making his knock much more forceful than necessary, the door creaked open. He peeked in but saw no one, his panic level was rising.

“Hello?” He yelled tentatively into the house, taking a step inside and giving his eyes a second to adjust to the dimness. “Hello?” He took a step further in. The walls were filthy with the stains of tobacco and Lord-knows-what-else and Brian’s stomach jolted at what looked like splatters of blood halfway up the wall. He continued along, stopping every two steps to yell out. There was shuffling but he didn’t see anyone. He was just about to announce himself again when he heard a click behind him and turned to find a wiry white guy pointing a handgun at him. He momentarily forgot how to speak.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy barked, shifting from foot to foot while his eyes darted around. “Are you a cop?”

Trixie slowly raised his hands out and cleared his throat, he felt like all moisture in his mouth had evaporated. “I’m not a cop.”

The guy jostled the gun and snapped, “that’s what a cop would say.”

“Listen, I’m looking for Ace. Maybe I’m in the wrong place?”

“Oh you know Ace!” The guy exclaimed, returning his gun to the waistband of his stained grey track pants. “Sorry man, shit!” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, “Shit! Shit! Fuck! Don’t tell her I pulled a gun on you! I’m Sam. C'Mon.”

The house was like a beehive, there were nooks and crannies all along the way to wherever Sam was leading him, every once in a while they would pass by a person laying on a dilapidated couch, or a mattress in the middle of the floor. Trixie’s heart would stop until he realised it wasn’t Katya. He felt bad for them but quickly kept up with Sam.

Trixie was not as prepared for finding him as he hoped, it felt like a dropkick to the gut. He was sprawled out on his side on another dirty mattress that was covered in a threadbare sheet, a dark haired skinny girl laying beside him whom Sammy skirted around warily. 

Katya was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard, he was a pale grey and covered in sweat. He was completely naked aside from a pair of brown stained tighty-whitey underwear. He had soiled himself and his face was inches from a puddle of vomit. He had bruises up his legs and angry red lines Trixie assumed were track marks going up his arms. He looked like he’d lost at least 20 pounds in the past 5 days.

Trixie crouched down, putting a hand on Kat’s clammy shoulder. If he thought his heart was breaking when he walked in on him using, it was now ground to dust. “Bri?” He shook his shoulder slightly and said it louder. Katya didn’t move, he let out a little moan, he was barely breathing in short, shallow little gasps with far to much time in between. He leaned right into Bri’s ear and yelled his name, he didn’t care if he woke up Ace. Let Sam be afraid of her.

She stirred at the jostling of the bed. “What the fuck is with the earthquake?” She opened one eye and sprang to sitting up so fast that Trixie fell backwards in surprise but quickly scrambled back up. “Hi Ace, I’m Brian, here to pick up this Brian, remember we spoke on the phone? How long has he been like this?”

“Oh yeah hi! I dunno, the past day or two.” She said with a shrug.

Trixie pulled his phone out of his back pocket, “he needs an ambulance.”

Ace shared an alarmed look with Sam, who was behind him and he felt the cold metal of the gun against his neck, making his skin crawl, “sorry man, I can’t let you do that. They’ll bring the police.” Sam apologized.

Trixie held up his hands and phone slowly, “take it,” he breathed, “keep it, please just let me take him away with me.”

Sam took it but grumbled indignantly, “I don’t want your fucking phone man, I ain’t no thief! I’ll give it back to you at the door.”

The cold metal was removed from the base of his neck but the goosebumps remained, now that he knew his head wasn’t going to be blown off, he tried to rouse Katya one last time with no luck. 

The first time he tried to pick up Katya, he didn’t get very far. He was like handling a cold, shaking wet fish. Katya was not heavy in general but Trixie struggled with the dead weight and trying not to drop him. He managed to finally pick him up bridal style and moved as fast as he could after Sam. He had to stop twice to lean against the wall and readjust Bri’s weight to get a better grip. His head flopped back sickly, letting out a crack at one point that made Trixie wince. He tried to move side to side til his head was no longer flopped straight back. Katya didn’t stir at all, Trixie wasn’t even sure he was breathing at this point but he couldn’t do anything about it until they were out and away from the house. Sam stuck his head out the door and looked around, letting Trixie eek out past him, he tucked Trixie’s phone in his denim shirt pocket. “Take care man, hope he’s ok.” Trixie got a few steps out of the door when Sam slammed it behind him, making him jump and almost drop his precious cargo. He heard the click of the door being locked and then Ace’s shrill voice screaming for Sam. 

Trixie scrambled down the little dirt hill at the front of the house, he tried to adjust Katya to open the car door but he couldn’t even get his keys out so he had to lay Katya down while he yanked open the door.

Katya was still shaking so hard, Trixie wasn’t even sure that he wasn’t having a seizure. Katya was stirring up so much dirt, he was covered in a layer of brown in the time it took for Trixie to unlock and open the door. He reclined the passenger seat all the way and picked up Kat again, dumping him onto the seat just as he was about to lose his grip and drop him. He leaned his ear onto Kat’s chest, he was still breathing but barely, his heart sounded like it was skipping beats and it was way too fast. By force of habit, he reached over to buckle the shaking man’s seatbelt. At least it might keep him from falling off the seat.

Trixie swiped angrily at his eyes as he quickly ran to the other side of the car, pulling out his phone to locate the closest hospital with an actual emergency room and not just a walk in clinic. It was almost 20 minutes away! Trixie’s hand shook as he tried to jam the key in the ignition, he ended up driving towards the hospital. Katya scared the shit out of him about three minutes in when he muttered one word, “Trixie.”

“I’m here Bri, I’m here!” Trixie sobbed and reached a hand over to smooth back Katya’s sweaty hair when he was at a red light, he held Kat’s hand and continued to talk to him as he frantically tried to figure out if he should keep driving to the hospital or stop for help. “I’m sorry I left you alone Bri. I should have stayed.” Kat let out a wet little gurgle and then his chest stopped rising. Trixie was getting hysterical, “DON’T YOU DO THIS TO ME BRIAN McCOOK!”

He was never so excited to see a fire station than he was right now, he was never as excited to see ANYTHING before. He screeched up to a halt right in front of the doors, sprinting in to the open garage door and screaming his head off. “HELP! HELP!”

4 people came running, “hey, what do you need? Are you hurt?” The guy that reached the hysterically sobbing and doubled over Trixie first asked, Trixie gestured to his vehicle and panted, “boyfriend, front seat. Save him!” They ran ahead of him as he struggled to catch up. By the time he reached the other side, they had somehow found a blanket and laid Katya out on the ground, people were running from everywhere with big red first aid bags, a fire woman was screaming to dispatch through a 2 way radio that they needed a bus STAT.

A guy had straddled Katya and was pounding on his chest while another held a mask up to his face, squeezing the bulb attached. Trixie sank to his knees and prayed, actually prayed, out loud. Begged, “please don’t take him away from me! Please!!”

The firewoman trotted over, sinking down beside him. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Um…uh….he was sober and then he fell off the wagon. I walked in on him 5 days ago, he was injecting something into himself, oh God I left him all alone, I ran away! Please don’t let him die on me. I left him alone! Why did I do that? Please don’t let him die.” Trixie was holding onto her sleeve like a child begging for a cookie before dinner.

“We’re doing everything we can sir, an ambulance is on the way.” She said to him and then yelled, “GET SOME NARCAN IN HIM!”

“You mean right now?” A young guy asked.

“No, McIntyre, tomorrow! OF COURSE I MEAN RIGHT NOW!” She screamed, the young guy shot back a curt “yes chief!” and started rifling through one of the first aid kits. The young guy that the captain had snapped at injected something into Katya’s arm while another buzzed around like a hummingbird, searching for a vein but not finding one.

The woman put a hand on Trixie’s back, he could hear the faint sound of a siren in the background. “Gimme your keys sir, I’ll park your car so you can leave it here and go in the ambulance. You shouldn’t drive right now anyway. Take a few deep breaths.”

Trixie couldn’t take a few deep breaths though, he felt like there was an ever tightening band squeezing his lungs. Every second that they worked on Katya felt like a small eternity.

To Trixie’s relief, Katya coughed like he’d been punched in the gut and tried to flail his fists at the guy on top of him, the guy quickly got off of him but caught his hands easily. Katya was still trying to hit the big mountain of a man, he was arching his back and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Trixie scrambled up and ran over to the group, he didn’t want to get in the way but Katya was flailing and going out of his mind.

“Bri, Bri, it’s Trix. You’re ok! You’re ok! They’re trying to help.” Trixie sobbed as the ambulance careened to a stop in the parking lot. Katya stopped flailing and Trixie let out a sigh of relief, he was coming back around. Or he thought so until the mountain of a fireman yelled, “he’s crashing again!” He resumed CPR and McIntyre once more injected something into Kat’s arm while the paramedics unloaded their gear and a gurney.

They got out a defibrillator and at the third zap they announced they had a thready pulse, sending a quiet cheer through the group. They put a still unconscious Katya on the gurney, strapping him in at the ankles, hips, waist and chest, leaving the defibrillator pads on him. The chief rattled off the situation and then handed him her card so he had the address so he could pick up his vehicle later.

“C'mon hun,” one of the paramedics pulled Trixie’s arm towards the ambulance and helped his shaking form up the giant stairs to sit against the wall. Katya crashed again on the way to the hospital, Trixie holding his breath while the paramedic worked to bring him back again. He still wasn’t back when they got to the hospital, they pointed Trixie towards the front waiting room, promising to come get him as soon as they could.

The wait was brutal, he didn’t know if Katya was even alive, one hour turned to two and he held out a sliver of hope that if Katya was dead, they would have come to tell him. He felt like he’d know.

He had never cried so much before in his life, he was either hunched in on himself or pacing the floor. An old lady in a volunteer smock came over at one point to bring him some water and tissues and sat with him for half an hour or so, whispering reassurance and empty promises while she rubbed his back which made his skin crawl. She meant well but he was relieved when she left all the same.

A young male in green scrubs finally came out, he looked around for a minute and headed towards Trixie, who stood up. “Hey I’m Dr Strand, are you the one that brought in the guy from the Fire Station on Kent?” Trixie nodded, he didn’t know if he had the ability to speak, his tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. Why couldn’t he read this man’s facial expression? He was hoping to glean at least whether it was positive or negative.

“Walk with me?” The Dr turned and Trixie made his body follow.

“Is he…” Trixie started but faltered.

“What is his name?”

“Brian McCook.”

“Mr McCook is alive and in critical but stable condition at the moment,” Trixie let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, he waited for the other shoe to drop though, “The next 24 to 48 hours will be touch and go. He has a severe staph infection from an infected injection site that has attacked his heart, leading to endocarditis.”

“What do you…what can you do for that?”

“We have Mr McCook on IV antibiotics, the vegetation in his heart is concerning and normally we would get our heart surgeon in there but he just isn’t strong enough for a surgery of that magnitude right now. Plus he’s going to be physically withdrawaling from the meth and heroin in his system, we’ve pumped a lot of narcan into him, it blocks the opioid drug receptors in his brain but it’s also forcefully putting into a pretty nasty withdrawal process. We’ll keep him asleep for the next 8 hours at least and try to make him as comfortable as possible, obviously he’ll need emotional support and there are a few rehab programs we can recommend. Any questions?”

“Vegetation?”

“Masses, like tumours, of infectious and inflammatory cells and other tissues that are obviously not meant to be there. Here we are,” the Dr stopped outside of a double set of doors that read ‘INTENSIVE CARE UNIT’ in big red letters to swipe his card which allowed the doors to swing open. They stopped and sanitised their hands and then the Dr lead Trixie to the outside of Katya’s room. He was afraid to look into the room, he swayed in place and the Dr’s arm shot out to steady him. 

“Are you ok? Let me walk you in Sir.” 

“Just give me a second.” Trixie panted, feeling like all the air had been sucked from the room. He closed his eyes as the room spun, he felt too hot. Dr Strand clamped his hands on Trixie’s shoulders painfully as he steered him into a chair just inside the room. 

“Put your head between your knees and take some deep breaths, I’m going to get something to clean up those burns.”

Burns? Trixie had no idea what he was talking about until he put his head down, he had sunk to his knees in the Fire station parking lot and hadn’t even felt the pavement burning him. Anywhere his skin touched, his knees and part of his right calf, was red and blistered. The largest of the blisters had popped to reveal what looked like hamburger meat underneath. 

Trixie knew he couldn’t avoid looking at Katya forever, part of him had to to prove he was really still there. It would be better if he was alone when he did. He lifted his head and sucked in a breath, tears springing in his eyes.

Katya looked beyond weak, he looked frail. He was hooked up to a ventilator, Trixie taking some comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest. He had a heart monitor, the beep, beep, beep of the monitor was reassuring even if it was too fast, a blood pressure cuff swallowed his whole arm. Trixie’s stomach flip-flopped at the sight of an IV coming out of the side of Katya’s neck. They had left the defibrillator pads on his chest and Trixie wondered if that was because they thought they would need them again. He still looked grey against the white flannel blanket that was pulled up on his bare chest. 

Trixie stood up on wobbly legs and stood by the side of the bed, he put his hand over Katya’s heart as if to confirm he was indeed alive. “I’m sorry I left you. Please don’t leave me,” he begged, his bottom lip quivering. He picked up Katya’s hand, wincing at the dark angry red lines trailing up his arm. His other hand made its way to Katya’s sweaty forehead, pushing back his hair. 

Katya still had a fine layer of brown dust on him and it was bugging Trixie, it couldn’t be comfortable and Trixie was filled with nervous energy so he went on the hunt for a basin and washcloths. He got them all together but then he was too afraid to touch Katya, too afraid that he would mess up the wires that were keeping him alive. He did wash off his scruffy face, being careful to avoid jostling the ventilator tubing that vibrated every time Katya exhaled.

Trixie was made very aware of his injuries as his nerves screamed at him when the Doctor came back to clean and bandage his burns.

Then Trixie watched and waited, tracing words into Katya’s palm. They tried to wean Katya off the medication to wake him up when his heart monitor let out a high, steady mocking whine, sending the room into a frenzy. A nurse punted a panicked Trixie into the hall just as they were jolting Katya’s heart. His back arched and then he flopped back down. Trixie stood in the hall, sobbing, realizing he couldn’t do this alone. He was going to go crazy.

He pulled out his phone, dialing with shaking hands.

“Hello?”

“Ginger.” Trixie managed to get out before completely breaking down.

“Trix? Is that you? What’s wrong baby? What’s happened?”

“Katya’s….sick. I don’t know what to do!” Trixie blubbered, letting out a wail as the Dr shocked Kat again. “He can’t die on me Ging! We just found each other.”

“DIE? Omigod! Where are you?”

“Cal… California. LA.”

“I’m in San Diego, I’ll be on the next flight out. It’s only an hour flight. What… what happened?”

“It’s his heart, there’s an infection, they have to keep resuscitating him. I’m…I’m afraid they won’t be able to get him back this time. I’m so afraid Joshua.” 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry Brian. I’m on my way to the airport now, I’ll send you my flight details.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Trixie hung up and rested his head against the glass. They had managed to restart Bri’s heart, Trixie sighed in relief and got hypnotized by the squiggly line of his pulse. They let him back into the room and he sank back down into the chair by the bed.

Ginger arrived in a whirlwind of hugs and tears and comforting but empty promises. He could only stay for 24 hours but his presence was comforting. 

3 days, 2 attempts and 1 more code later and they were finally able to wake Katya up. His eyes went wide as he flailed his matchstick arms and tried to pull out his breathing tube so Trixie grabbed his hands, putting his face directly above Katya’s. 

“Bri, it’s ok! You’re ok! This is to help you breathe, they are just trying to help you babe.” 

Katya calmed and they were able to remove the breathing tube about half an hour later and replace it with oxygen. 

“You came.” Katya croaked and then hacked violently, turning blue and coughing up a pink foam. A nurse cranked up the oxygen and shoved a mask over Kat’s face. He took a few deep breaths, slid the mask off and tried to speak again.

Trixie placed the mask back on and smoothed his hand through Katya’s hair.  “Shhhh! Don’t talk. Of course I came! I looked for you for days and days. I’m so glad you called me. I was going crazy! I’m so sorry, I should have never left you!”

Katya turned over their enjoined hands and released Trixie’s, he traced the words 'I’m sorry’ on Trixie’s palm. Tears pooled and trickled down his cheeks as Katya’s shoulders shook with sobs. Trixie wiped away the fat tears with his knuckles. 

It was obvious that even though Katya had only been awake less than an hour after 3 days of unconsciousness, he was exhausted and his eyes kept fluttering shut. He’d quickly jolt himself awake, grimacing in pain and rubbing his chest.

Trixie lifted their joined hands and kissed Katya’s knuckles, “close your eyes Bri, rest.” He whispered. He started humming the tune to a song he wrote long ago and was relieved to see Katya allow himself to rest.

The next day they wheeled Katya away to surgery after a tearful goodbye, both Katya and Trixie were very aware that this could kill Katya but to do nothing could also kill him. The antibiotics were not working as well as the Doctors had hoped. The 3 hour wait was unbearable, even with the arrival of the whirlwind that is Katya’s Mum Pat at the beginning of the second hour to distract him.

Pat came and crouched in front of the chair Trixie was sitting hunched over in, “Hi, you must be Trixie? I’m Brian’s Mum Pat. What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything, I just got back from vacation to a message from some hospital in LA saying they had my son. They didn’t tell me anyone was with him and I’ve been going crazy all flight at the thought that he spent all this time alone. Thank you for coming, Brian has told me a lot about you. He’s really quite fond of you. Where is he? Where is my son?”

“He’s in surgery. He’s got masses of infection in his heart.” 

“Oh,” Pat breathed and sat hard on the floor. Trixie scrambled to his feet and pulled Pat up, the tiny woman latched on to him in a surprisingly firm hug. Trixie did his best not to squirm, he wasn’t really a “hugger”, he just wasn’t used to it. Pat was crying, her knees were wobbling so Trixie was practically holding her up, he turned slightly and sat her down in the chair. “I’m sorry!” She apologized as he pulled up another chair, she put her hand over Trixie’s, “you mean a great deal to my Brian. Are you two together?” Trixie nodded but then started sobbing. “Oh no! Why are you crying dear? It’s going to be ok, Brian is a strong boy.”

“This is all my fault.” Trixie cradled his head in his hands, he took a deep breath and told Pat the whole story. Walking in on Katya shooting up, running away, searching for days, him calling and what happened after.

Pat was silent for a long, agonizing moment then she put her hand on Trixie’s back, “it’s not your fault dear. Brian has slayed this dragon before and he will again.” She said confidently. 

They both stood up as the cardiac surgeon came in and introduced herself as Dr Gilmour. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“Oh God,” Pat fell backwards into the chair and folded in on herself, “is my baby dead? Please oh God no!”

“No, no no! I’m so sorry. Brian did fairly well during the surgery, we came into a bit of trouble with the left ventricle. We’ve removed what vegetation we could but we will likely need to go in again in a day or two. Unfortunately, the damage is extensive so we called UNOS and got him on the list.”

“What does that mean?”

Pat pulled Trixie to sit down again beside her and he was glad she did, “honey, she’s saying Brian needs a heart transplant.”

“Oh.” He said dumbly, feeling numb and getting goosebumps all over.

“How likely is him getting a heart with his history of substance abuse?” Pat asked, looking like it was the last thing she wanted to ask.

“it definitely came up to the ethics board, I made sure they knew he had been sober for some time before this slip. I managed to get him a bed at a rehab program at a hospital here in LA. They have an excellent program for patients who may need a less rigorous and more flexible program because of medical fragility.”

Trixie’s heart sank, “how long is it?”

“Well, it doesn’t have a set time like most programs because of its unique nature. But the minimum stay is around 30 days.”

Katya ended up staying for an agonizing 3½ months while Trixie had to parade around the world, pretending everything was fine at Kat’s insistence. They had put out the story, at Pat’s insistence, that she was sick and Bri had taken a hiatus from travelling to go be with her.

It had been 10 months since he was put on the list, he was somewhere near the top since he continued to decline. Trixie remembered the call they had gotten a month ago in the middle of the night, Dr Gilmour announced that they had a heart.

Katya had joked on the way to the hospital that if Trix kept driving like an idiot, they would get in an accident and his organs would be no good to anybody. They practically floated into the hospital, Katya dancing with his oxygen tank they had named Charlie like a goof while Trixie went to the front desk to sign them in.

They knew something was up as soon as they saw Dr Gilmour’s fallen face. “I’m afraid that there was a problem with the heart. It wasn’t viable.”

The ride home was the longest and most silent 35 minutes of Trixie and Katya’s life. Katya had made Trixie go upstairs to sleep, saying he was in too much pain to have someone in bed with him. He refused to take pain medication unless he was delirious with agony. Then he permitted it since it was bad for his heart to be put through so much stress.

Trixie got halfway up the stairs when he heard Katya let out a sob. He put his head down, grabbed onto the railing, then gave it a thump with the side of his closed fist. He almost went back downstairs but knew that Kat needed to be alone. He climbed the rest of the stairs, flopping on the bed where he cried himself to sleep, still fully dressed.

Trixie felt Katya squeeze his hand, bringing him back to the present. “Hey there, you looked like you were far, far away. Where did you go Tracy?” Katya asked, smiling wistfully.

“Oh I was just strolling on the beach with my dead Dad.” Trix joked, “how was your rest?”

“It was ok, there weren’t any beaches though, nor dead Dads.”

“Bummer man.”

“So I was thinking…”

“Always a dangerous activity.”

“Oh shut up!” Katya laughed then grew serious, “we should move our Christmas up to November 5th.”

Trixie could run one of two ways with this, he could tell Katya that a heart would come or he could crack a joke. He chose the latter, “you just want your present earlier, ya big ol’ baby!” 

Katya elbowed him in the shoulder. “Why do you know me so well? You’re so mean! But seriously can we?”

Trixie’s mouth hitched up on one side in a lopsided grin, “ok fine!” 

He gave in just like Katya knew he would, playing perfectly into his plan.

They got the call on their special Christmas Eve, they were curled up watching a movie and eating lasagne, well more precisely Trixie was eating and Katya was pushing the food around on his plate before pushing the plate away all together and grumbling about not being hungry. He had been getting worse lately and had been hospitalized twice in the past 2 weeks.

Katy answered the phone with shaking hands, automatically putting it on speaker and setting it on his chest since he found it too taxing to hold the phone up without losing circulation in his hand.

“Brian, we have a heart for you.” Dr Gilmour announced, the excitement in her voice was almost palpable. “It’s in the air now, it’s been double and triple checked so we won’t have a problem like last time.”

“Ok, we’re on our way.” Katya said in a monotone before hanging up. He refused to get excited this time, the last time felt like his trashy heart was being crushed to smithereens.

Trixie squealed and hugged him gently before grabbing Katya’s portable oxygen tank and yanking the fully packed hospital bag out of the front closet and throwing their phones and laptop and their various cords in. It had been carefully packed for months in preparation for this moment. Trixie had found the list on Pinterest. It had the basics like toiletries, lip balm and lotion, magazines they hadn’t read yet, ear plugs and sleep mask, slippers and loose clothing. Then it had things they would have never thought of, 2 empty refillable water bottles, snacks for Trixie to stress eat while waiting, a battery powered fan for white noise since Kat couldn’t stand the beeping on his previous hospital stays and a stuffed Tenderheart Care-bear from Ginger. An adult colouring book and pencil crayons were suggested for the pre-surgery waiting jitters by a fellow heart patient whom they met on one of Kat’s hospital stays in the last 10 months. 

Katya labouriously sat up in bed, switching to the shorter oxygen tubing to his portable tank, it was only 5:15pm but he was as exhausted as if it were 3am and he’d been working out for 10 days straight. He had to stop 5 times on the way to the car, breathing heavily and being supported by Trixie who had offered to carry him. He bristled and declined, it was totally emasculating to be offered to be carried like a child, even if it was by someone who loved him as much as he knew Trix loved him.

There were no jokes even though Trixie drove like a madman again. He was grinning madly, he couldn’t help it. Katya felt hope ignite in his stomach, he tried to suppress it but soon there was a small grin on his pale blue lips too.

Trixie pulled up to the front door, “wait a sec.” He ran into the hospital and returned pushing a wheelchair which he almost careened in the side of his Jeep in his haste. Katya opened his mouth to protest but closed it with a warning look from Trixie. Trixie brought him into the lobby, pressing Kat’s phone into his hand, “call your Mum while I park the car.”

Trixie rushed away, practically skipping and humming to himself. Katya looked at his phone for a minute before tucking it into his pocket. He had to make sure this was real, he couldn’t bear being any more of a disappointment to her. He was back to being numb, he had apparently successfully squashed that pesky flicker of hope.

“Hi Brian! You made it!” Dr Gilmour rushed over and hugged him, picking up his wrist to check his pulse as if by habit while she looked around. “Let’s get this show on the road, like I said the heart is in the air, should be here in 45 minutes. Where’s Firkus? You ready? How do you feel? When was the last time you ate and how much?” Her questions toppled out in her excitement, she had gotten attached to “the Brians" as she called them, she practically bounced in excitement. They were such a lovely couple and she had fought hard on behalf of Katya. He was a talented man that made a mistake and it shouldn’t cost him his life.

“He’s parking the car, one bite of lasagne about an hour ago because Firkus was giving me his puppy dog eyes and before that a boiled egg, ½ a piece of toast and ensure this morning at around 10. Haven’t had much appetite. So there’s really a heart?”

She put a hand on her cocked hip as she rolled her eyes and quipped sarcastically, “no, there’s no heart. This is all an elaborate ruse Brian.” She then did an uncanny impression of the soup guy from Seinfeld, “no heart for you!”

Katya let out a giggle, “aha! I thought so!” Trixie rushed up to them, pulling Katya’s hand into his and swinging them slightly.

“Ok Firkus is here, let’s go get you a new heart Brian!”

“One second, I just have to call my Mum.”

Trixie let out an exasperated sigh, “you didn’t believe it was really happening, did you?”

“He didn’t. Sceptical, sceptical man!” She tsked with a wink and then checked her beeping cellphone and let out a very nonDoctor-like squeal, “it’ll be here early, in 30 minutes! Let’s goooooo!” She tapped her fingers on the counter until Katya hung up with his Mum and then she grabbed the wheelchair handles and they were off. 

——-

“Daddy, why do we celebrate two Christmases?” A tiny girl in a scarlet velvet gown crawled into Trixie’s lap. He chuckled at her and put his guitar down as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Well, 6 years ago and 2 years ago, miracles happened on November 4th.”

“Oh really? What?” She bounced on his knee in her excitement, this story never got old to her.

“Well 6 years ago, a man in Florida unfortunately died, but he gave the ultimate gift by signing an organ donor card. Your Papa was really, really sick.”

“It was his heart, right?” She said seriously, her brown eyes wide. She pointed one chubby finger to the center of her chest. A wide pink scar was barely visible, peeking out of the top of her dress.

“Mmhmm, exactly right Barbara.”

“So Papa got a new heart right?”

“You know that the answer is yes.”

“What happened 2 years ago?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh it was very exciting! We got a new houseplant! That fern over there!” He laughed at her look of indignation.

“Daddyyyy!” Barbara whined and pouted, “tell the story right!”

“Oh ok! If I must,” he sighed in mock exasperation and then continued, “your Papa was feeling sick, his new heart was being grumpy so doctor Gilmour,”

“God-mommy Olive?”

He nodded into her hair and kissed the top of her head, “Yes God-mommy Olive, do you want to tell the story?”

“Noooo! I’ll be good, I promise!” She said seriously then squealed when Katya picked her up and tossed her in the air once before putting her down between them, she climbed up and he cradled her on his lap, Trixie scooched closer and put an arm around him.

“The Christmas-ish story? Again?”

“Mmhmm.”

“So I was sick,” Katya continued, “anddoctor Olive decided I should be in the hospital for a few days for some medicine. We were at the heart institute and when I was feeling a bit better, we went for a walk around the hall and noticed a teeny little 4 year old girl.”

“Me right?”

“Yes you! You were so small.”

“You were pretty sick,” Trixie took over the story like he did every night, “we found out later that you had been in and out of the hospital a lot and we felt sad that you were all alone. We didn’t know where your Mommy and Dad were so we’d sneak in and sit with you and talk to you, sometimes I would sing to you. Then we found out that your Mommy and Dad were very young when they had you and too afraid to hurt you because they loved you so much so we snuck in in the night and stole you and ran fast!”

“Silly Daddy!! Then doctor Mark fixed up my heart and you adopted me, right?” She let out a huge yawn and snuggled in deeper, blinking up at them sleepily. She didn’t need them to nod, she knew the story and had asked to hear it millions of times. “I’m glad,” she muttered as her long-lashed eyes fluttered shut.

Katya leaned over to Trixie and gave him a kiss, “Merry Christmas-ish dear.”

“Merry Christmas-ish honey, oh honey.” Trixie said with a giggle.

Katya sighed happily and thought ‘we started new traditions and we’ve made our own family because of it’ his newish-to-him heart filled with gratefulness and relief as he looked down at Barbara adoringly, ‘I didn’t destroy anyone.’

(hope the end wasn’t to floofy)

**Author's Note:**

> Dear beloved reader, 
> 
> Thanks for reading my story! I hope you liked it and it just broke your heart a tiny bit but the ending glued it back together. Whether you liked it or hated it and want me to die in a fiery plane crash, feel free to send me feedback! Please?
> 
> On a serious note, please consider becoming an Organ Donor, it can even be put on your licence (or health card in Canada) if you think your family would disagree. It really is the ultimate gift and you can’t take it with you. I, myself, am a tissue donor recipient, I am very grateful that it was an available option for my parents. (I was like 4 when we started to age 7)
> 
> Organ donation is also close to my heart as my Godbrother and very best friend, Jeremy, died when I was 12 while waiting for a heart. He was only 8.
> 
> I know it’s a hard decision and I know some religions prohibit it, I would just be glad if this makes at least one person think about it.
> 
> Love and Glitter,
> 
> Remény
> 
> PS for Roses readers, there will be a chapter up today!


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